Love Makes Fools of us All
by paramorebrighter
Summary: A companion piece to the 10 Hospitalizations of Alexis Castle from Beckett's point of view after season 4 closer. So many things happened that Alexis wasn't aware of in the story that I didn't get to write about. The more I got into Kate's past, the more I wanted to write her. I hope you like it.
1. Chapter 1

___Disclaimer- I don't own Castle or any of the characters. I've read the _Nikki Heat_ books (and _the Derrick Storm_ novella, but not the comic) and watched the show, but they belong to Andrew Marlowe. Please don't sue me, I'm poor. I just like playing with the characters and I don't make any money from writing this and I didn't beta it. So, if you wanna beta, please feel free to ask me, I'll probably accept the offer. Leave me reviews if you did (I'm one of those authors who can't write without somebody patting them on the back for each chapter, I suck)._

_I decided to try to write a companion piece from Kate's point of view for _the 10 Hospitalizations of Alexis Castle_. A lot went on in that fanfic, but Alexis didn't recognise it. This is my first attempt at Kate's voice. I honestly didn't think I could do it, but I ended up liking what I wrote. I hope you all do, too._

* * *

I'll never forget the night I woke up for the first time in Richard's apartment in TriBeCa, my heart pounding, adrenaline pumping and covered in sweat. No, we hadn't just had sex. I had had a dream of a casket being rolled down Times Square while I was out with and Richard and Alexis, and I suddenly realized Alexis wasn't with us. The pallbearers rolled the casket up beside us as we were walking down the busy sidewalks and I realized that I could see inside it. There was a shriveled mummy inside with red hair that was wearing a trendy, youthful, flowered dress. I realized it was Alexis.

"Oh God!" I cried. "Richard, it's Alexis!"

"It's not Alexis," Richard scoffed.

"Yes it is! Look at it! Where is she?"

"It's not her," he said. "We're going to be late."

I woke up almost screaming in horror, clawing at my surroundings.

"Babe?" Richard muttered, awaking from his sleep. "What is it?"

I took a few deep breaths. "Nothing," I muttered. "Go back to sleep." He rolled over and started snoring again. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, getting out of bed to take a bath to calm down and cry from these emotions pumping through me.

I don't know why I had such a reaction to her. I wasn't that close to her anymore. When I met her, she had been a gawky, awkward fifteen-year-old girl with the most gorgeous red hair and wide blue eyes and oh my God, was she opinionated. Precocious is what I would have described her as had she been five years younger when I met her. She was beautiful, but didn't know it, I could see the way she scathingly glared at her reflection with youthful insecurity, like all girls— like I had myself, when I was her age. She asked my opinion on everything and then debated it with me. After I got shot, her father had jumped to protect me, not her, and even I admitted that this event had pissed her off for good reason, but I didn't understand why she was mad at me and not her father. All I knew was that Alexis was complicated and her own person. I hoped that now that she lived in the dorms, she'd come to terms with that.

Alexis was not someone I had dwelled on much before. She seemed so independent of her father: at times, she was more mature and responsible than he was, othertimes, she mothered him the way he had to father his own mother. The family dynamics were very messed up, but up until now, I thought Alexis was fine with that, Richard had come out relatively unscathed (if you could dismiss his two failed marriages and lengthy petty rap sheet unscathed).

The next morning in the bullpen, I got call about a dead body found in the meat-packing district. When I arrived, I got the chills. It was a red-headed young woman in a flowered dress who had been found inside an abandoned factory. Her corpse was decaying a bit dried out.

The first thing I did was call Richard, since I didn't have Alexis' number in my phone. I felt my blood pressure rise and my vision got blurry, my ears ringing.

"Richard Castle."

"Honey, where's Alexis?"

"She's on her way to her morning Chemistry class. She's fine, I just talked to her this morning."

I took a deep breath.

"She's fine. What happened?"

"I just… There's a victim here with red hair and a flowered dress…"

"Do you need me to come to scene?"

I nodded, covering my mouth to avoid letting out a sob. "Yeah. I do."

* * *

I think my newfound interest in her made Alexis uncomfortable. Richard had asked me to marry him to cut off a fight, which had made me cry and I said yes. We agreed we'd keep it a secret until the next party he threw, then we'd announce it to our friends.

Alexis came home, the first time we had seen her in a month, with a laundry sack brimming with dirty clothes and a suitcase. What seemed out of place on her was that the roundness of her cheeks had disappeared. I hoped that she wasn't experimenting with Speed to stay awake for all the classes she was taking. I had tried it once in high school, but hadn't like it at all. Somewhere in the back of my head, I had started to care about her as more than just a friend or lover of her father's. He had had tons of women, why would I be any different to her?

I didn't care that she wanted to try some wine that night, even though I knew the hell I'd face at work if my allowing her to drink got out. I tried to tease her to get her stop being so stiff. My father would do that with my friends to warm them up when I brought them over when I was younger, but all it did was make her… stiff? I couldn't place a reason on why.

It was when I asked her if she really should be taking that many hours in her first semester, that her irritation towards me manifested slightly. So far, we had a "working" relationship. I'd tell Richard to tell her hi or to ask her a question, just so I could be a larger figure in her life than just her father's girlfriend. I wasn't sure how to cultivate a relationship with a future step-daughter. It was blind territory for me, but an old hat for her.

The next night, we held the party. A few of Alexis' high school girlfriends were there for the break, including the one I didn't like. She was being dragged around by her like a small puppy on a leash.

"You think Alexis is okay?" Lainey asked me.

"I… I guess so," I said, shrugging. "Richard trusts her, I trust her."

"I think she's looking a little anemic," she said. "She's lost weight… not that she had any to lose."

"I think it's just the running," I said. "She's training for the New York City Marathon. She wants to run it next year. She's running the half in a month."

"Yeah, she said that… You don't think… you don't think she's getting into any bad habits?"

"Bad habits like drugs? I've considered it, but she doesn't have any of the tell-tale signs. I honestly thought it was Speed or Adderrol at first, you know, what most Ivy Leaguers do." It was true; she wasn't being irresponsible, she was on time for everything. I had been in the first generation of kids that bought Adderrol illegally in college to get all my homework and tests done, and I had had to admit that, and how I had done marijuana before, in POST. It shook my confidence, but they had been forgiving. It all reminded me of my first confession in the Catholic Church at age seven. It all made me feel disgusting and violated. The sad truth was, I knew more cops that had some kind of chemical dependency than I wanted to. "But she doesn't strike me as the type to do something illegal, you know… She's just a little too perfect."

I realized that was truth; she was the kind of girl I would have hated had we been the same age; she was smart, intelligent, wise for her age, was in good with every teacher, was an overachiever, she was from a rich family, and had absolute freedom I had dreamt of but she never abused. I had never had that and back when I was a teenager, it would have made me jealous. She was perfect at age eighteen, and I hadn't been. At age eighteen, all I could think of was what a pain in the ass my mother was. _I know your mother and I seem like a drag, Katie, _Dad had said to me, causing me to roll my eyes and scoff. I was ungrateful and wanted my freedom, which they wouldn't give me. I had hated them for that.

* * *

We announced an engagement that night, and in my mind, I had already picked out the women I was going to ask to be my bridemaids; Lainey first, of course, my maid of honor. Jenny was another pick which I carefully considered, after considering what had gone down between Kevin and me when I had temporarily quit the force. She was good friend. I had two other friends from school that I had kept up with, and then, there was Alexis. I knew I was going to ask her, but I wondered if she'd accept with her revulsion towards me.

"I knew that was an engagement ring," Lainey said the moment the toast was over. "I called it, but you acted like it was nothing!" She hugged.

"You'll be my maid of honor, right?"

Lainey groaned and sighed.

"Please?" I begged. "I don't want to ask my country-music wannabe slut cousin from Nashville. Please, Lainey?"

She finally cracked a grin. "Girl, you know I will." I hugged her fiercely.

"I love you," I whispered into her ear.

"I love you more. Congratulations. I'm really happy for you."

I saw Alexis dart past us and she shoved people aside to her to her father to hug him. "I love you Dad, I'm so happy for you," she blurted out in a single breath, her face twisted in horror. She was lying? "Congratulations."

"Thank you, honey," he said. "I love you."

"Alexis," I said, getting her attention.

She robotically hugged me. "Congratulations," she said, her voice strained.

"Are you okay with this?" I asked.

Her face broke out into a forced smile. "Of course!" She seemed to be trying to fake her happiness. She didn't seem happy right now. I liked that she was trying to be happy, even though something was bothering her. Maybe she wasn't completely revulsed by me afterall.

"You'll be one of my bridesmaids?" I asked tentatively.

She swallowed hard. "Of course."

She said good-bye to us shortly after to go out with her friends.

The party ended at about midnight. After a half-assed attempt at a clean-up, we gave up and went to bed. We had just gotten past the foreplay stage when Richard's phone rang. "Ignore it," I ordered. The caller hung up. We went back to banging the headboard when the phone rang again.

"I really don't want to get that," he muttered.

I glanced at the caller ID. It was Tara Hirschberg, one of the girls Alexis had gone out with tonight. "It's Tara. You should get it."

He picked up the phone. "Richard Castle... Hey, Tara."

There was a long pause, only punctuated by "uh-huh" and "nuh-uh"s. I held my breath until he hung up. "She saw some hipster boy trying to assault Alexis," he said, looking defeated and horrified. "He attacked both her and Tara, Alexis was drugged."

We were frozen in shock for what seemed like an eternity when I finally got up out of bed and started getting dressed. He did, too. I called my friends in the sexual assault unit. Even my influence couldn't solve a case like this any faster. She was raped? This kind of thing didn't happen in Richard's circle of friends.

When we arrived at St. Vincent's, they took Richard back into a consulting room in the ER. I waited nervously, tapping my heel until he came out. "She's fine. He got a hand down up her skirt, but that was the extent of it all before Tara caught them. She got a tattoo."

"Where?" I cried.

"Her foot. It's still wrapped up."

In all this horror, she had gotten a tattoo? They were telling him now? I started laughing. I could hear the hysteria in my own laugh. I never freaked out like this. It had been years. "The princess area," I muttered, almost drunk from laughter or hysteria or both. "Tattooed like a little princess!"

I sat there in there ER waiting room, slightly hysterical. What the hell was wrong with me? Lainey walked into the room and spotted me immediately. "You're in shock," she said.

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. Come on, I'm getting you a Xanax." She tossed me small trial packet out of her purse. I popped the pill dry and within a few minutes, I calmed down.

I remembered the ways I had rebelled after I decided a majority of drugs got on my nerves and it made me stupid; I had had sex instead. It was wonderful at infuriating both my parents. With a different guy every week trying to get their attention, the one thing I could control that my parents had no say in. A pregnancy scare did me in; I came home from college, crying to my mother, and she said to me, _Katie, this is what happens when you look to other people to make you happy. Only _**_you_**_ can make _**_you_**_ happy with the cards you've been dealt. _My mother refused to let me even entertain the thought of an abortion. _You made your bed, you lie in it,_ she had said. I had never gone to a doctor for birth control before then, just done condoms or the high-school pull-out method. The sad thing was, I wasn't sure who had knocked me up. The day after I cried into my mother's arms, I got my period. The next weekend, my mother was murdered. I took her last mother-daughter talk to heart with everything else after that; the only thing that made me happy was avenging murders and wrong-doing, it seemed.

Richard came out of the ER room again.

"She scared the shit out of me," he said. "She got completely trashed in a night. They're nursing the hangover out of her right now with a fluid IV… Are you high?"

"A little," I admitted.

"She's taken a Xanie," Lainey explained.

"That's all I need," Richard said. "To have to take care of both of you in the morning."

"I'm fine," I slurred. I knew I'd be fine. But Alexis? I wondered if she'd remember this somehow, would it stunt her, scar her? I wasn't sure.

In the morning, I had fallen asleep in a strange position cramped and curled up, my neck cramped when she was wheeled out in by a transport tech in a wheelchair, looking horrified and embarrassed. I saw the bandage taped over her foot, obviously covering her brand-new tattoo. That was the one thing I never did during my rebellion phase and I wish I had, sometimes.

This was a strange moment. Alexis didn't want to talk to me at all.

I wouldn't have known what to say anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

___Disclaimer- I don't own Castle or any of the characters. I've read the _Nikki Heat_ books (and _the Derrick Storm_ novella, but not the comic) and watched the show, but they belong to Andrew Marlowe. Please don't sue me, I'm poor. I just like playing with the characters and I don't make any money from writing this and I didn't beta it. So, if you wanna beta, please feel free to ask me, I'll probably accept the offer. Leave me reviews if you did (I'm one of those douchebag crybaby authors who can't write without somebody patting them on the back for each chapter, I suck)._

* * *

My weeks turned into days and the stress of starting to plan a wedding started to set in. We finally just hired a wedding planner, which took a lot of the load off my mind. The first week after Alexis's fall break, I realized that her mother just wasn't contacting Richard. I wondered briefly if she was doing so for Alexis and not telling us. I expected a mother to be the person that was there for her daughter in a time like this. Like a time my mother had been for me in a crisis. I had thought myself to independent, but in the end, I was scared and needed my mother. I missed her now. She'd know how to handle a wedding. I wondered what my role would be when Alexis got married, if I'd equate to anything or would Meredith be there to faun over her? I wasn't going to have that.

"Dad! Kate!" I heard Alexis shout. "I'm home! With laundry!"

I had been in the kitchen trying to defrost a Thanksgiving Turkey in the kitchen sink (honestly, I didn't cook that well, Richard surprised me with his skill in the kitchen). I was ready to just leave it alone and tend to Alexis. I turned around to see Alexis enter the kitchen.

I almost didn't recognize her.

Her eyes and cheeks were sunken, a vein pulsing through the translucent skin on her forehead, her mouth stretched back, revealing her teeth and white gums. Even though she was wearing a sweatshirt and a navy peacoat, her collarbones were cutting out along with the sinews of her neck. Her eyes were dilated and she was huffing, as if she had climbed the stairs the whole way up here. She tossed her stuffed laundry sack onto the kitchen floor. "God, that was heavy!" she cried.

"Sit down," I said, not sure what to do. If she hadn't been on meth or speed before, I couldn't imagine how else she had lost enough weight. Normal people didn't do this to themselves, did they? That didn't mean she was… the girls I had gone to college with who puked in the bathrooms and popped laxatives were so insecure and shallow and petty, I thought. Not, not Alexis. She was so smart and sensible. _Smart, sensible, practical, perfect girls didn't do this kind of stupid shit, _I thought. _Not girls like Alexis._

"I'm fine," she said.

"Let me take your jacket?"

"No," she said. "It's kinda cold in here. What are you making?"

She inspected the turkey sitting in the sink that I had just taken out of the protective sack. "I'm defrosting the bird," I admitted.

"I'm sure it'll be good," Alexis said. "I need to go to the store. I found this website, Pinterest, I've been pinning recipes I think everyone is going to like. How many people are coming on Thursday?"

"Well… overall, about twenty people said they were going to stop by. You know, the cops at the precinct who had to work the beat."

She nodded. "Well, I'm going to toss my clothes in the washer, if you don't mind, I'm taking over the laundry room," she said, she picked up the laundry sack and went to the tiny closet that housed our washer and dryer.

She wanted to cook. Anorexics didn't cook, did they? _She was definitely on drugs, _I convinced myself. As a cop and detective, I dealt with drug addicts all the time. Get them through the withdrawals, figure out what the traumatic bullshit was that they were trying to dull, get them on some legal prescription antidepressants and you could just send them on their way. Or so I thought.

When she left the apartment to grocery shop, I went through her laundry to find glass pipes or little plastic ziplock bags with little white rocks in them. Most addicts forgot about these things and they'd find them like Christmas presents in their pockets when we frisked and searched them. Nothing more than some caffeine pills and some ibuprofen tablets in her pockets and a few tissues. Well, it was New York in the winter. I put her dark clothes into the washing machine, trading them out for the whites in the dryer.

She got home right as I was smoothing out her fitted sheets and folding them the only way I knew how: wadding them up.

"What are you doing?" she cried furiously.

I shrugged. "I was never a housekeeper."

She snatched the sheet out of my hands and started folding it precisely. "I like them folded a certain way," she said irritated. "I don't like laying down on crumpled sheets." I hadn't known that 800 thread count egyptian cotton sheets wrinkled.

"I was just trying to help," I said, throwing my hands in the air.

"I can take care of my own underwear, don't touch it," she snapped. She glared at me and took the laundry basket upstairs.

My fiance was under a deadline that weekend; Richard had been working at a furious pace in his office the whole week, and he finally came out of his office. I'd come home from work and he hadn't even eaten lunch. "I'm done!" he shouted. "Ahead of schedule! A hundred and thirty-thousand words line-edited in less than seven days! I am the man!"

"Indeed you are," I said. "Look, I just tried to fold some of Alexis' laundry, I think I pissed her off-"

"She's been doing her own laundry she was eight," he said. "Don't worry about it. She just likes things done her own way. She's very particular. You'll get used to it… ALEXIS!"

"WHAT?" she shouted from upstairs.

"Come on down, we're about to have dinner!" he shouted.

"Not hungry!" she yelled back.

"Just a second," he said, going up the stairs.

I waited, pulling the broiled chicken out of the oven (to my credit, I could broil chicken, among other cooking tricks Richard had taught me). "She said she's already had dinner," he said, coming back down in the kitchen.

"Don't you worry about her?" I asked.

"Like a father would? Yeah, sure I do, but she's so independent… you know what I mean."

"Richard," I said. "Have you actually seen your daughter, yet? She's lost a lot of weight."

"She's a smart girl. She knows what she's doing," he said.

"I can't believe you're not doing something right now!" I cried. "She looked like a meth addict!"

He looked a little defeated. "She says… she says she's eating."

"I don't believe that."

"Alexis doesn't lie to me."

I crossed my arms. "Everybody lies to their parents. Didn't you?"

"I grew up with a nanny until I was thirteen. I did my own thing after that."

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Martha. "I checked her laundry. No drugs."

"Well, everybody smokes pot. You did."

"Pot makes you eat, not starve."

"That's not true, one of my roommates in prep school upstate was a major pothead and he'd start engineering things when we got high. He made an entire dining room set when we scored two kilos of weed."

"That doesn't bother you? That your daughter could be hiding major drug use?"

"No. You know what they say about private schools; that's where you find the best weed. Besides, Alexis would never endanger her future. I know her better than anybody."

I rolled my eyes. "I think she's developing a problem. Maybe it's time we nipped it in the bud before it's too late. Have you been in contact with her mother at all?"

"Nah." He shrugged. "She's in college. She's just testing her freedom."

"Testing her freedom? Even I was jealous of how much you let her do whatever she wants when she was living here. I didn't get to do that in high school!"

"Have you said anything to her?"

I shook my head. "What's there to say?"

* * *

The next morning, Alexis was in the kitchen when I woke up, already busy with what she was cooking. I tried to work around her when it came to the turkey, but she seemed a little annoyed. I took the hour between the tuns I took checking on the turkey to watch football and flip back and forth between the Macy's Parade. Alexis never left the kitchen.

When Dad came over, Alexis was still busy. We watched some football together taking nickle bets, and then Martha showed up with a few bottles of red wine. We opened the first bottle and when I offered some to Alexis, she shook her head. She was in the zone, I supposed. Or maybe she was so high and nervous she couldn't stop what she was doing. The turkey was finally finished, and Alexis's culinary creations were done, and we sat down to eat. Alexis was still in the kitchen.

"Alexis, do you want to actually join the family for Thanksgiving dinner?" Richard prodded.

The microwave dinged and she came out with a measly little TV dinner tray that was steaming. "I'm coming," she said, taking her plate, putting it on top of the TV dinner tray and then flipping it over. She smiled in satisfaction at the three slivers of turkey, the half cup of dry-looking stuffing, and the shriveled cranberry jell-o. "There."

"Are you kidding me?" Richard asked.

"Alexis, really, you worked so hard on all this food, and it's Thanksgiving Day," Martha began. "You're going to eat the same thing we are, aren't you?"

"No!" Alexis cried. "I just finished the half-marathon a few weeks ago, I want to get into top shape for the full next year!"

"It's a little early for that, isn't it?" I interjected.

"It's never too early," she said. "Okay, let's eat."

* * *

That afternoon, when my friends came over from the precinct, I was too distracted.

I knew that whatever Alexis' problems were, so far, the worst of it was her weight loss. That afternoon, I ended up in Richard's office in the armchair, rubbing my bare feet nervously. "I think the least of our concerns should be drug abuse right now," I said. "She's absolutely deluded to eat the way she does. She didn't even finish her food."

"Do you think somebody called her fat?" Richard asked. "Maybe that got to her."

I shrugged. "I don't know," I admitted.

"Maybe if we just talk to her about this diet she's put herself on she'll stop this," he said confidently. I could almost see the conversation forming in his head; he'd ask her, she'd tell him some boy broke her heart and called her fat, and that's why she was dieting, he'd tell her she was beautiful and didn't need to diet, and she'd agree and tell him she loved him and everything would be rainbow unicorn farts from here on out. I realized it wasn't going to be that easy. Yes, he had been a good Dad to her, but I got this sinking feeling it wasn't going to be this easy. At a moment like this, I wasn't sure what to do.

* * *

The conversation we had with Alexis went exactly like I thought it would; she got mad, saying that she _did _eat and that we were worrying over nothing. I caught her glaring at me as if this was all my fault and I was overreacting and influencing her father against her. It didn't end the way I'm sure Richard expected it to. I hoped that some of it had sunken in with her. I knew that sometimes, when you were doing something dangerous but didn't realize it, sometimes it took hearing it from people that loved you before you thought about changing your mind.

A beat cop friend of mine said that he saw her at Columbia up near Harlem. He said she looked almost dead. She was hard to miss with that beautiful red hair.

Maybe the fact that she came away angry with us didn't make Richard any less worried. He hounded her, asked questions, all but harassed her though her finals, then he'd report back to me. "She says she's eating," he said. "I think she gets that we're worried and it's all going to be okay, now."

"What does she say she's eating?"

"She said she had to skip the dining hall today and got a bagel for breakfast on her way to the track, so if she's eating carbs, I think she's just fine."

"Richard… I don't believe her."

He sighed. "She doesn't lie to me."

He was in so much denial that there was something wrong with her. "Richard… listen to me, everybody that wants independence lies to their parents. That's what she's doing. She might be on something, but something really, really bad is going on here."

* * *

I tried to make Alexis's room ready for her arrival home from the dorm with fresh sheets and the bathroom clean, although I got the perquisite cold that all New Yorkers seemed to get when it got too cold out. New York experienced a snow storm and a record low temperatures She said she'd get home late on the 14th, but we didn't hear anything that night. Richard fell asleep on the couch waiting. When I woke up the next morning and saw him still laying on the couch, half-awake, instead of making coffee, I said down beside him and took his hand. He knew I was right. And this was no moment to mock him with _I told you so_. It never crossed my mind and it would have been cruel.

After sitting with him for a long time, my precinct-issued phone rang in the other room. "I've got to go," I said. "Keep me updated, okay?"

"I will," he said.

I kissed him good-bye.

I had only been at work for two hours when I got the call from Richard. "She can't move. She sounds bad. I need some help getting into her room."

"What's going on?" Javie mouthed. I had confided in him and Detective Ryan about this situation, and of course, Lainey. I held a hand up to tell him I'd be right with him.

"I've got to go to a deposition," I told Richard. "I can't get out of it. She's a legal adult, though, privacy laws."

"I think she'll let me come up if I can just get past Housing Security."

"Call your lawyer. I don't know if this qualifies for an MPA, but it might."

"Alright. I'll call you back. You're the one with all the legal contacts."

I hung up and turned to Javie. "It sounds bad," he said.

I thought about Richard losing Alexis. Was she close to death? Death always snuck up on the people who you loved. Always. I was around it all the time. I couldn't imagine what would happen to Richard if anything happened to Alexis. He loved her so much, and I'd never be able to fill up the hole in his heart that would be torn out if she died. I suddenly felt rebel tears stinging my eyes. The thought was overwhelming and made me feel helpless. I was part of him, as was Alexis. I had never realized how connected the two of them, were, and how much I was connected to the two of them, now, and how delicate that balance was.

"Come on," Javie said, tugging at my arm. I couldn't burst into tears in the middle of the bullpen. I almost never cried. The last time I cried was at my mother's funeral. I didn't cry when I got shot, I didn't cry when I almost fell of a building. I was strong, right? No… How foolish of me. We went to the coffee shop across the way, waving to a few of our fellow cops lining the bar counter. "What's going on with Alexis?" Javie asked.

I wiped my eyes. "I don't know," I said. "I honestly don't."

"There's been a lot of speculation in the force," he admitted. "Do you think she's… she's mimicking meth addiction."

"She's in her dorm room, and she's just told Castle she can't move from her bed," I admitted. "He's trying to get in, but Housing Security is a problem."

"You've got a deposition in an hour," he said. "Look, we're family. I'll just go down there with him and flash my badge and we'll see what's going on."

The knowledge that my friends were good enough friends to me and would do that for Richard and I overwhelmed me again. I nodded, trying to stem my tears.

"Five minutes," he said. "Give yourself five minutes to absolutely lose it. Feel it all. And then, you have to pull it together and act. You can handle this."

I nodded, and a sob escaped my lips.

* * *

I had to turn my phone off when I arrived at the courthouse. I tried to put this whole situation with Alexis out of my mind as I testified, but it was difficult. The moment I got out of the courtroom, I turned my phone on and it was flooded with text message and missed calls. The first one I got from Richard tipped me off.

_I called an ambulance. She's too tired and too cold to move. It's bad._

I felt my pace quicken.

_She's insisting she's not on any drugs, but she's so starved, she can't think straight._

_They're taking her to St. Vincent's._

_I was in the room when they put her on the scale, and tried to resist. She's down to 79 pounds. I can't think._

I called to the precinct and called out for the rest of the day, getting into my car. The ride to the hospital made my head race; she's that thin, she's insisting she doesn't do drugs, she's lying, there's no way she could be eating food at all. What in the world would drive such a beautiful, intelligent, bright young woman to do this to herself? Alexis was anything but shallow. She never struck me as someone who cared disproportionately about her looks over her education and future. As far as anybody could tell, she was the perfect daughter, too mature and too rational for this kind of thing, even at her age.

_Where's her mother? _the thought rang in my head. Alexis needed a mother in a time like this, where was she?

I had met Meredith Farrelly Castle Maxwell Holland Alexander Guillory (or whatever her last name was now) almost five years ago when Richard first started following me on the job. She had been a piece of work. She had seemed so self-involved and useless… I had just met Alexis, and I could see her rabid need and want for her mother, but at the same time, the disgust at how she treated her like a toy to play with and then stick on a shelf in her life. I had heard her call once-in-a-while, but she never came to the East Coast if she could help it. All my friends whose mothers were divorced but were still in good contact with their fathers usually made it a point to be good friends with their ex-husbands new wives. I had never considered it for Alexis's sake. Meredith never called or sent for Alexis to visit ever. I wondered if that was what was wrong with Alexis; she needed a mother. I was setting up myself to be her father's wife, her stepmother… Maybe it was arrogant of me, but maybe I had to act as her mother. But the problem was, I had no idea how to do that. At that moment, I wished I could have called my own mother and asked her what to do. _Oh Mom…_I felt those rebellious damn tears stinging my eyes for the second time in a day. I missed my own mother so badly at that moment, I almost hit a taxi in front of me I was so distracted. _Oh Mom, I don't know what to do. _I realized I was shaking.

_Five minutes, Kate. Five minutes._

* * *

_A/N- okay, Kate's cried enough for one Chapter, right?_


	3. Chapter 3

___Disclaimer- I don't own Castle or any of the characters. I've read the _Nikki Heat_ books (and _the Derrick Storm_ novella, but not the comic) and watched the show, but they belong to Andrew Marlowe. Please don't sue me, I'm poor. I just like playing with the characters and I don't make any money from writing this and I didn't beta it. So, if you wanna beta, please feel free to ask me, I'll probably accept the offer. Leave me reviews if you did (I'm one of those douchebag crybaby authors who can't write without somebody patting them on the back for each chapter, I suck)._

* * *

I arrived at the ER room in St. Vincent's, and Richard and Alexis were arguing. She looked like death; her skin was broken out, her hair was pulled back into a greasy ponytail, and her face was so gaunt, I almost didn't recognize her. "… Dad, that's ridiculous, I'm not on anything, I swear! I'm just trying to keep my body in good shape-"

"You can't keep yourself in good shape when you don't give muscles enough fuel to run on, look at you! This is ridiculous!"

"Alexis?" I asked.

"Honey, hi," Richard said, getting up. I realized she was hooked up to an IV. He kissed me on the cheek and slipped an arm around my waist. "Are you alright?"

I nodded quickly. Mothers had to be strong for their children, right? But I had no idea of how strong was being too strict and what amount of gentleness was letting her get away with murder. "I came as soon as I heard you were in the hospital," I said, going over to her bed.

Her lips, thin and chapped, grimaced. "Thanks," she muttered. All the times I had given my mother grief and had been sarcastic with her when she was genuinely concerned suddenly bit me in the ass. _Mom, I'm so sorry, _I thought, hoping she'd hear me somehow.

Richard guided me out of the room.

"Seventy-nine pounds? Are you serious?" I asked.

"They weighed her backwards, she doesn't know. Officially. But…" He shook his head. "Is this really happening? She was always such an easy child to manage, she never got in trouble, never mouthed off or got arrested… She's never lied to be before! Jesus Christ!"

I slipped my arms around him and buried his face into the crook of my neck. "It's alright," I promised. "Everybody lies to their parents. You didn't think she was going to be an easy child forever, did you? You really lucked out so far. Now, it gets tough."

He sighed into my neck. "I know." I stroked his hair. "Why did she have to wait until she was a legal adult to do this?"

"I don't know. A lot of people do. What's the prognosis from the doctors?"

"Anemia, deyhydration, salt deficiency, what they thought was a heart murmur, her electrolytes were off, she admitted she hasn't had a period in five months, and… they've given her a diagnosis of anorexia nervosa." He lifted his head. "They didn't find any stimulants, THC, or illegal amphetamines."

"Well, that's a silver lining, isn't it?"

"They think the heart murmur was caused by excessive caffeine consumption and the lack of food. I hope to God it's not her body consuming her cardiac muscles. You know it'll start consuming her brain tissue, next."

I realized how little I knew about anorexia nervosa. I made a mental note to start reading as much as I could about it. "You know, lots of girls I went to school with dabbled with anorexia like it was some sort of game. They usually cut it out when things started to get real. Maybe she's just dabbling."

"Isn't this severe enough?" he asked. "Landing in a hospital?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I really don't. I love you, you know. We'll get her home and eating again. Maybe this will be her wake-up call."

"It better. I don't see how it can't be."

We walked around the hospital together in silence, and finally came back to Alexis's room. Martha had arrived and was holding her hand while she slept. "I suspected this at Thanksgiving," she said. "I've seen my fellow actresses fall into this trap. Do you think it's something to do with boy? With how she thinks she looks?"

I shrugged and looked at Richard.

"I don't know. I really don't."

"She's so beautiful, she can't even see it." Martha muttered, rubbing her hand between her palms.

There was a knock on the door and we turned to see a doctor poke his head in. "Hi, can I have a conversation with the patient's parents?"

"That would be- that would be us," Richard said, taking my hand. We walked out of the room and into a consultation room and sat down.

"I'm surprised that neither of you recognized this in her sooner," the doctor said. "Seventy-nine pounds is a dangerously low weight for someone at five-foot-five."

"We've noticed some weird things that she was doing with food around her fall break and Thanksgiving," I admitted. "She wouldn't come home except on breaks. It was hard to spot."

"College is a stressful time for a lot of people. A lot of change," he said. "She seems like a bright girl. It's always the smart ones I see in here like this."

"So, at this point, what's next?" Richard asked. "What do we do?"

"To be honest? At this weight? I suggest putting her in inpatient therapy."

I felt Richard shiver. "Inpatient?"

"This is the first time she's ever exhibited these symptoms, isn't it?"

He nodded.

"What about a day program?"

"Those are really effective when the patient is dedicated to recovery and will choose it for themselves. They can work alone and with their families in the mean time. I don't think Alexis even realizes how ill she is, yet."

"So, you're suggesting we put her in an inpatient program for how long? The break? A few weeks?"

"Inpatient programs take a few months, Mr. Castle."

I felt Richard's grip go limp for a moment, as if he had almost fainted in the chair. He ran a hand over his face. "She'll kill me," he said.

"You're the parents, she's not," the doctor informed us. "She's over eighteen, though. She could say no and not go."

"We can make it so she has to," I offered to Richard. "You're not obligated to pay for another adult's college education, right? What else is she going to do?"

"Maybe that's the path the both of you need to take," the doctor said. "You still control her finances. And honestly? I hate saying this, but when it comes to situations like these, you have to blackmail her the best you can. I think you and your wife need to go through some support therapy. Anorexia nervosa is very, very similar to drug addictions. Sometimes, you have to present them with the worst possible situation before they attempt to go to rehab. Anorexics can give themselves endorphin highs with exercise and extended periods of ketosis. Usually, the patient has the best chance at recovery when the entire family is being supportive and changing dynamics. We can get you some contacts and therapists, if you'd like."

"I don't know anything about this," Richard admitted. "I just…"

I squeezed his hand. "She'll go to inpatient and we'll be fine. We'll be a family."

We went back to Alexis's room. She was half-awake, trying to watch TV with Martha, who had on _Jersey Shore_.

"Please tell me you don't watch this tasteless garbage," Martha said to Alexis.

Alexis smiled at her grandma. "Sometimes. When I'm bored. Which isn't often," Alexis mumbled.

"I've got a class to teach, darling," Martha said. "Although I can cancel it."

"No, go teach your class. I'll feel better in the morning. We can go to Rockefeller Center this Christmas, okay?"

"Darling," Martha stood up and pressed a kiss to Alexis's forehead. "I want you to feel better. And be strong. I love you. Remember all those nights we'd stay up watching old movies and eat mountains of pop corn when I lived with you and your father?"

Alexis nodded.

"I want to do that with you again. Soon." She kissed Alexis's face a few more times, which made her smile.

"'Bye, Grandma."

"Sleep well, my darling girl. I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

Martha picked up her purse and stopped to talk to Richard as Alexis nodded off again. I watched from the couch, my stomach gurgling feeling like a third wheel. I realized I was hungry. How had Alexis defied her own hunger so much that she had lost this much weight but not killed herself? I was so hungry, I felt like I was going die.

Richard and I ate an early dinner in the cafeteria. "Have you called her mother?" I asked, thinking that there was no possible way Meredith wouldn't need to know that her only offspring was in the hospital.

"No," he admitted. "Personally, I'd like for Alexis to just start eating, and we'll forget this ever happened."

"I don't think it's that easy," I said. "Besides, didn't you have joint custody with Meredith of some sort?"

Richard shook his head. "No."

"You never told me about your marriage to her."

"Why would I subject you to that?" he asked.

I knew it was an awkward question to ask. But I wanted to know. The easy explanation had been given to me several times, but Richard and I were planning a life together. _Things didn't work out, she had other plans, I couldn't stop her when she got a great job in LA and she left._ I wondered briefly if Gina had asked the same question about Meredith. Since our engagement, I had gotten to know Gina a little better, but she had no ties to Richard other than that she had spent almost seven years with him before a very splashy divorce in the New York gossip columns.

"I met her right as I was finishing my teaching degree at Georgetown," he admitted. "She was living with her Aunt, who was a cocktail waitress and Mer went to American U, was in their incredibly awful theatre program. It was sex and a lot of doobs and wine. I was going to break up with her when she told me she was pregnant. I think she sabotaged her own birth control, but she sank her claws into me. You know that Alexis was born in DC."

"You married her because you knocked her up?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah. I was twenty-three and stupid and just got handed a check for a hundred thousand dollars for my first three books with Hyperion, and she was pretty and sexy and everybody loved her. So, that meant I loved her. I didn't really, I just didn't know what it meant to be in love at that time in my life. I just thought I was. So, I did the honorable thing and we went to Virginia to a Justice of the Peace. We stayed married for another six years before she broke it off. I was the dumb-ass who stayed with her. I know she cheated; she tried to seduce Steve Cannell to get back at me, but he declined. She made sure I knew what she was doing, too. You know the reason we moved back to New York was to help her get her theatre career back on track. She demanded it once she lost all the baby weight and she weaned Alexis, you know, from nursing, at six weeks. When she filed for divorce, she wanted sixty-thousand a year plus child support, but I had a rap sheet on her when it came to cheating that she just finally gave up. She virtually walked away with nothing, financially. Her lawyer told mine that there was no way she'd be a stable enough parent for Alexis, so at that point, the judge asked Alexis, and she said she wanted to stay with me. Meredith didn't contest, she just abandoned us, and it's never been in print that she has a daughter, as far as her career goes, unless somebody went digging. Or she wanted the added fame it would bring."

Richard, and ultimately Alexis, had been a springboard for her career. She had been a golddigger, but Richard had never noticed until it was too late. Giving birth had just been a method of entrapping him.

"You must hate her."

"No. I see her for what she is, now. My motives with her weren't as pure as the freshly driven snow, either. I've used her in the past, you know that. While we were married, she was a trophy. Afterwards, bragging rights when she came to town, mainly to see me. I'm not so innocent. I refer to that as my practice marriage."

"Am I trophy for you?"

"I mean trophy wife when I was talking about Meredith. I'll admit it; I had just broken up with Kira, and I was convinced she was the love of my life and I lost her when I met Meredith."

"Kira was the love of your life?"

"I thought for a long time that Alexis was, but then… then I met you."

* * *

I stopped off in Alexis's room with the new knowledge about her mother while Richard sat down and read a newspaper on the couch.

_Mom, please tell me the right thing to do,_ I thought. I rarely acknowledged God, He and I had a touchy relationship, especially since Mom had died. I prayed to my mother instead. _Alexis can't stand me and I don't want to force myself on her as a mother. I'm not her mother. Please, please, please help me. I want to help her. I want to make up for all the things she didn't get because she didn't have a mother. Please, Mom. Please hear me._

I sat beside her bed while CSPAN was on the TV on mute with the closed captions on, Alexis woke up a few times, asking for water, which I got for her.

"Are you uncomfortable?" I asked.

"This bed sucks," she admitted. "It's almost sticky-feeling. I hate these sheets."

"You'll be home soon enough," I promised.

She sighed and rolled over, twisting the sheets again.

I went to smooth them out, and a vision popped into my head; I had come home sick from school and Mom had set me down on the couch with a blanket and complete control of the remote, something Dad rarely gave me. She brought in a tray of chicken noodle soup, reheated from the can, and a grilled cheese sandwich. Then, she asked me if she could rub my feet down with lotion and sang _You are My Sunshine_ to me.

That was it. I certainly wasn't going to sing to her in the hospital, she had been anything but a ray of sunshine to me recently, but her feet were sticking out at the end of the bed. "Alexis?" I asked. Her eyes fluttered open. "Can I rub your feet?"

"Yeah, sure, go ahead," she muttered, rolling over onto her side, nodding off.

I tried to remember how my mother had done it. She never put cold lotion on them. She rubbed the lotion between her palms and carefully spread it across my insole, then worked it across the sole of my foot and between my toes. For the first time in a long time, when I finally began to rub the insole of her foot down, she didn't flinch when I touched her. Her feet her dry and the skin cracked and a few blisters here and there, dead skin patches as well, her big toe nail falling off from a bruise. She had really abused her feet in the last few months. I wondered briefly how she had run on them at all. Her calves showed a few weeks worth of hair growth. Even I didn't shave in the winter if I could help it. Since I had been sharing a bed with Richard lately, I had, but I knew eventually, I'd get out of the habit of shaving in the winter again.

As I worked the lotion into her feet, she moaned softly in her sleep in satisfaction. I wondered if she'd even remember me doing this for her. It didn't matter. It was therapeutic for me, too.

* * *

That night, I went home alone and made sure Alexis's sheets were ironed and ready. Right as I was sitting down, Javie and Kevin came by with a giant car load of Alexis's dorm stuff, completely having cleaned out her room. I hope she didn't lose it over us moving her things out, I remembered the laundry incident at Thanksgiving.

We sat down by the fire to warm up with beers and a funny thought hit me that I'd never share with my best guy friends; I hadn't gotten my period since November. I had been sick- was this morning sickness? A small part of me rejoiced at the thought, another part of me understood how difficult this would be with my job and especially with my father; nobody in my family had ever had an illegitimate child before, even my white-trash cousins from Nashville. I tried to shove the thought to the back of mind while we warmed up and I told them about Alexis's diagnosis.

"You know, my sister Georgina suffered from bulimia and was a cutter in high school," Kevin said.

"Did your family put her in inpatient?" I asked, surprised at this news. I had met Georgina, she seemed perfectly logical and fine; she had two sons that loved _Captain Underpants_ and _Bob the Builder_ and loved being a mother. Her sons were her life.

"No. She just sort of got over it," he admitted. "Maybe she can talk to Alexis about this?"

I nodded. "Yes, please. We don't know where to start with this."

"You're starting to think of yourself as Castle's wife now, aren't you?" Javie asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm just mad at her mother right now. I feel like Alexis really needs a mother, but Richard doesn't think so."

"Maybe this is your chance," Javie offered. "I know things have been rough with you and Alexis since you were shot."

I nodded.

"I think Javie's right," Kevin said. "She does need a mother. She's always mothered Castle, and Castle fathers his mom and… so the cycle goes."

Mother. With the possibility that I was pregnant, that word made me both excited and sad. Richard and I had had a conversation about it and I was too into my own career and he into his, and he had already had a child… the idea of a baby with his blue eyes and sense of humor made me feel all… _squishy_ inside, a word I rarely used. Another version of him in miniature form would be so… so cute. So lovable. So… wonderful. He had already raised his child but was good with her, did he really want anymore? I might be pregnant, the idea was ominous. A baby changed everything, literally. The freedom we had in our lives, the amount of sleep we got, the amount of spare time each of us had, the amount of parties we could throw, the vacations we'd go on. If we had a baby right now, Richard would be fifty-nine when he or she graduated high school, I'd be fifty-one. Was that too old for him? For me? We had made a plan, and this didn't go with it. I liked babies. They were fun, cute to talk about, and they made me happy to be around them, but I had never considered actually wanting one of my own. I knew that babies didn't love you back for years and years and years. It was a thankless job. But, something inside me wanted one, suddenly.

"You look really tired and like you've got a lot on your mind. I'm going to head out. Good night, Kate," Kevin said.

"Good-night," I said, standing. I kissed them both good-bye.

Alone in the loft by the fire, I put the beer aside and put my shoes and coat back on.

_What if you _are _pregnant? What if it's a girl?_

The thought of a little girl made my heartrate quicken. We still had to deal with Alexis being so sick and I hoped this was just a quick phase for her, and that she'd love to be a big sister. But me, having a little girl… I'd name her Johanna, after my mother, of course. She'd be beautiful and smart and… she'd love to read, like Richard and I both did. I'd dress her in little jumpers and an NYPD: future detective t-shirt with itty bitty baby sneakers.

In the Walgreen's down the street, I bought a home pregnancy test. My heart pounded as I took it back at hte Loft and waited the longest three minutes of my life.

The world began and ended on the positive sign that appeared.

A part of me was so happy; I honestly had never thought much about starting a family, I had always thought I'd be alone, but I had met Richard, and he wore me down and we were engaged, now. I'd have to put the wedding off if I was pregnant, I wasn't walking down the aisle in a maternity wedding dress under any circumstances… if I walked down the aisle at all. The idea that Richard might not want to get married or even be a father a second time scared me. Of course he'd be a father; he had accidentally gotten Meredith pregnant, and had married her because of honor, and he hadn't even loved her. Why wouldn't he marry me if something like a baby happened? He may have been an adult child, but he had a sense of honor instilled in him somewhere along the way. And, he had referred to me as the love of his life tonight.

I didn't sleep well that night; so much to be excited about. In the morning, I got some coffees; a decaff for me and a regular for him, and went up to Alexis's room. She was arguing with him about going home; luckily, she looked better. The breakout on her face had calmed down and she had a little color, but not much.

"I'm absolutely fine now, Dad," Alexis was insisting.

"Prove it by eating your breakfast," he argued.

"Hi," I said, slipping in past the curtain.

"Did you bring me some coffee?" Alexis asked.

I shook my head. "I thought they'd bring you some for breakfast," I said. "I can get one for you."

She sighed. "No, that's okay."

"Thanks, honey," Richard said, taking the coffee I handed him. I wasn't sure if I could drink caffeine while pregnant. "How was your night?"

I tried to smile. "It was lonely. Javie and Kevin dropped by with Alexis's things. We've got your bed ready, Alexis. Your things are ready to be unpacked."

She looked sullen for a moment. "Thank you," she muttered, glaring at her breakfast tray.

I took Richard's elbow. "Can we go for a walk?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure," he said, putting on his shoes. "Alexis, eat."

She sighed and pushed the tray away.

"Come on," I said, taking his hand.

We walked the concourse of the hospital together. "I haven't told her yet," he admitted. "A part of me is so afraid we're overreacting."

"Me too," I admitted. "But I wanted to tell you something before I went to work."

"Yeah?"

"I just got this feeling last night. I wasn't expecting this…"

"What? You're breaking off the engagement?"

I sighed. "No," I admitted. "I just took a pregnancy test last night after Javie and Kevin left. It said I was pregnant." He stopped. "Honey…"

"We're having a baby?"

I nodded. "I know this didn't go with any of our plans and it's really bad timing, but… I really think I want this. I never realized it until last night, that there's a part of me that wants to be a mother. I know it's really late in life for you to have another child, I just thought… I thought you needed to know."

He stared at the floor for a moment.

"Please tell me you want this. I don't think I can do this on my own. I honestly can't do this without you."

"I'll be almost fifty-nine when this kid graduates high school."

"I know. I know it's sort of late in life for me to have a child, but I think I want to. If it's a girl, I've already picked out a name and… I just need to know that you want this."

"There's no turning back now, is there?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Not for me."

"If it makes you happy, I do," he said. "You're right, we couldn't have a baby at worse time, could we?"

I nodded. He took me into his arms and kissed me.

"We'll figure this out as it goes along, okay? Step-by-step. It'll work out."

I hoped so.


	4. Chapter 4

___Disclaimer- I don't own Castle or any of the characters. I've read the _Nikki Heat_ books (and _the Derrick Storm_ novella, but not the comic) and watched the show, but they belong to Andrew Marlowe. Please don't sue me, I'm poor. I just like playing with the characters and I don't make any money from writing this and I didn't beta it. So, if you wanna beta, please feel free to ask me, I'll probably accept the offer. Leave me reviews if you did (I'm one of those douchebag crybaby authors who can't write without somebody patting them on the back for each chapter, I suck)._

* * *

Alexis came home that night when I got off from work. Richard kept on giving me knowing glances and would catch me at weird moments to kiss me when he thought Alexis wasn't looking. For however horrible this disease was, we had something to be happy about. That night, after we heard Alexis stop padding around the upstairs, we sat in bed together, staring at my stomach. I stuffed a pillow under my top and we laughed at the idea that I'd look that way in a few months. "What did you want to name it?"

"'It?'" I repeated. "The proper pronoun is 'he' or 'she.' You've done this before, I haven't, and you're calling your kid 'it'!"

He chuckled. "Fine. What do you want to name _him_ or _her_?"

"If I have a girl, I want to name her Johanna Noelle. Johanna for my mom. Noelle because I like the name."

"I wanted to name my offspring after famous writers."

"You didn't do that to Alexis!"

"I did! Her name is Alexis Shelley, after Mary Shelley."

"Then you pick out a name."

"Edgar Stoker."

"Are you kidding me? Our kid would be the first one beat up at school at recess!"

"Hey! I changed my name to Richard Edgar Allan Castle," he said. "Edgar Allan Poe was the original bad-ass in horror writing! And Brahm Stoker fathered the vampire movement, vampires are in, so I want to name my kid Stoker!"

"Yes, I want my kid named after a vampire. It'll never become lame, right? You've got some crazy ideas."

"I know. I love you," he said, trying to change the subject.

I was going to have to learn to pick my battles, I might as well start now. "I love you, too."

* * *

The next few days Alexis mostly hid in her room. While I was elated at being pregnant with Richard's baby, the mere thought gave me a grin. Things were going to work out for the best; Alexis was going to go through rehab and get better, we'd put this eating disorder behind us and I'd have the baby, we'd be a family, and it would be happily ever after.

"We've got to break it to her that she's going to rehab instead of school in the spring," I told Richard while we were putting ornaments on the Christmas tree. I found a picture of a bashfully grinning red-headed little girl on an ornament that had had a lot of care put into the holly leaves cut out on it. I hoped my child would make ornaments like this someday. I put it in the middle of the tree.

"What about the baby?"

"I haven't told anybody," I said. "We haven't even found an OB GYN, yet. I'm so excited, though!"

"When do you want to tell everybody? I want to tell everybody that I knocked you up already!"

I chuckled. "Soon! After the first trimester's over. I don't even know how far along I am— Richard, how do you think Alexis will take it?"

He shrugged. "Hard to tell, honestly. She could be elated, she could be horrified."

"We're living together. She knows we're having sex. No surprise there. These things happen, even on birth control."

"How do you think this is going to affect… this problem she's having?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I think rehab will help her deal with it."

"We have to stand strong when it come to Alexis," he said. "I need you."

"Don't let her think she can do whatever she wants," I said. "We have to make sure this is like an intervention, though. Everybody who cares about her has to stand behind us on this, she either goes to rehab, or she's cut off. She has to hit rock bottom, first. Get in touch with Meredith."

He sighed. "I have."

"When?" I cried. "You said you weren't going to tell her!"

"Martha sent her a message," he admitted. "She's telling everybody about Alexis. Tell a phone, tell a friend, television and tell Martha, that's the quickest way to spread the word."

"What did she say? Meredith, I mean."

"She grilled me on what exactly Alexis was doing, how did she lose the weight, was she taking pills or an injections or what and then asked me if Alexis was willing to come visit. She practically demanded she come see her."

"Don't let her go. It'll blow up in your face. I don't see anything good happening if she doesn't go into a clinic setting by New Year's."

"I told Meredith she was free to come to the East Coast to see Alexis, but Alexis was not crossing the country to visit her. She sounded almost… almost jealous, if that makes sense."

"Perfect sense." I had always struggled to keep weight on; I didn't quite understand it, it all seemed so silly to me. I had been called anorexic as a teenager, I remember feeling my ribs and hip bones and being angry I didn't look more like Neve Campbell on _Party of 5_ or Jennifer Love Hewitt. Now, I understood that Jennifer Love Hewitt was twit, although I wished I had more curves myself. But I'd give them up to be good at my job and in shape to run after suspects.

"I wish Meredith would come around more…" I frowned when he said this. "For Alexis's sake. I don't think she understands that she's going to rehab."

"We'll have a conversation with Alexis tonight."

When we were done with the ornaments, she came downstairs, rubbing her shoulder joints. Her skin had cleared up, but that didn't change the gaunt, skeletal appearance she had. "Hi, guys. What's going on?"

"We put the tree up," he offered.

"It looks great," she said. She sat down on the couch across from us.

"Honey, we need to talk about something."

"Sure, okay." She fidgeted nervously. I wanted to fidget, too. This was embarrassing and we all knew it wasn't going to end with a hug and an admission of anything.

"This diet for the marathon training has gone too far."

Her jaw dropped. "I'll stop training," she offered. "But I think I'm fine."

"This mean's you'll start eating, right?" Richard asked. I noticed that she hadn't promised anything.

"I'm not eating abnormally," Alexis said.

I elbowed Richard in the ribs and he glanced back at me.

"I don't believe you when you tell me you're eating," he said. "Nobody looks like you who's actually eating. You don't have any fat left on your body."

He was playing the bad cop right now. It was up to me to let her know that we were on her side. "Alexis, it's not that hard to be healthy," I offered, trying to be the good cop. "I love to cook, I'm learning a lot, we can come up with something-"

"Kate, no offense," she snapped. "I like you a lot, but can you please stay out of this?"

Her comment felt like I had been pistol whipped with my own gun. I was a detective who always knew how to manipulate a confession out of my suspects, but just now, she left me speechless. She was being a little bitch.

"Alexis," Richard began in a lower, more stern voice.

"Castle," I cut him off. "I'm sorry, Alexis. I'm not your mother and maybe I'm overstepping my bounds." I stood up to leave. I needed to leave just to cool off. I wasn't going to let her be a brat. That was some bullshit right there if she was going to be so disrespectful to anybody. I was carrying her little brother or sister, on top of that. I was going to be a part of this family, whether she liked it or not simply because I was going to be her sibling's mother, regardless if Richard and I ever got married.

"Alexis," Richard said, grabbing my arm, tugging me back down to the couch. "Don't talk to your future stepmother that way. Kate, sit down. Alexis, I think-" he stopped to regroup, "_we_ think, as a family, you should go to an inpatient program-"

"I'm not going!" Alexis snapped. "I'm going back to school-"

"You're not," he said. "You're not fine when your joints are too stiff because you don't have enough fat to protect them from the cold. Normal people don't get so dehydrated that they can't get out of bed for two days. Or get anemia or their hormone levels off or damage their hearts."

"I'm an adult," she shot back. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "It's my choice to go back to school, this is my body and there's nothing wrong with me-"

_Nothing wrong with seventy-nine pounds, _I thought. I squeezed Richard's arm back.

"I understand you're an adult," he said. "But I'm not paying your tuition if you go back."

He glanced back at me and I nodded. He was doing the right thing. She couldn't go back and we had to present a united front. As far as Meredith was concerned, it was better for Alexis not to know that her own mother had no real concern for her well-being. We wouldn't tell her about the offer in LA.

Her jaw dropped again.

I squeezed Richard's arm again to encourage him. "I'm not paying for another adult's education. I have no obligation. You can take out student loans, but I'm not going to pay for you to continue to do something that's going to kill you-"

"My education's-"

"I know this is hard to accept, but this it what's best for you, sweetheart."

I saw her eyes start shining with tears. "I really hate you right now," she snapped. "Both of you are such assholes."

There. There it was. The rebellious child that Richard hadn't actively parented. He was finally doing the job and she didn't like it.

"I really, really hate you," she said, getting up from the couch. She didn't insist she wasn't going; she understood she had no choice. She stomped upstairs and slammed her bedroom door as loud as she could.

"You did the right thing," I said. "I think she'll cool off in rehab and then we can tell her about the baby."

"You know how hard that was?"

"Yeah, I almost walked out; that's what she wanted."

He squeezed my hand and kissed me. "We're a team. We can do anything together."

* * *

Alexis was still mad at us, but was starting to cool off. By Christmas Day, she was able to sit down with us and open presents, and then sat at the dinner table with us, pretending to eat. It was useless to try to manipulate her into eating anyway. She'd be in treatment, soon.

I spent my evening making a wedding registry as well as a baby registry that night as we watched _A Christmas Story_. Because I wasn't far along enough, I made a list of basic baby things that weren't gender-specific while Richard looked over my shoulder. By the end of the movie, I was pretty sure I had thought of everything. It would be a while before we announced our baby, but I was excited about it.

"I've got to go upstairs and pack," Alexis said, getting up from her duvet cover nest on the floor.

"If you forget anything, we'll bring it to you," Richard said as she went upstairs.

"Thanks, Dad!" she shouted over her shoulder, dragging the blanket up the stairs.

He squeezed my shoulder. "She seems to be accepting her fate."

"It's not like jail or anything," Richard said. "She'll get over it."

"We're doing the right thing," I said. "I want her to get better. I want her to be there when the baby's born."

"In the delivery room?"

"Well… No. I want her there, though. Just a phone call away, and she can be there to wait on him or her."

"I'd like that, too."

* * *

The next morning, Alexis locked herself in her room and wouldn't come out. It was check-in day and we had to leave because this was my morning off. Richard tried pleading, threatening and ordering, but she refused. I was so angry, I almost got out my glock and shot the doorknob off, but Richard calmed me down when he got out a screwdriver. They had a long discussion, and she came out, completely tear-stained and puffy-eyed. We took her things downstairs and she got into the car.

I had wanted to kick her ass all morning, but had held back on account of Richard's patience with her. Now, I could literally feel terror radiating off of her. She was acting irrationally right now. I felt a little compassion for her now, which eased my frustration.

"This isn't as bad as you think," Richard insisted as he put the car into drive. Alexis sniffled. "There's no need to be scared."

"It's not like you're going to prison," I offered. "We'll come to see you as much as we can once you're allowed visitors."

"We'll call everyday until then. Twice a day, if you want."

I remember the care packages I got from my mother when I went to sleep-away camp in elementary school. "And we'll send care packages."

Richard winked at me. "We love you a lot, Alexis. A lot of people do."

A small sob escaped her lips from the backseat as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. I was so used to being able to read people, she was a mystery right now. I wasn't sure if she was just scared out of her mind or pissed off at us.

When we arrived at the clinic, she was panicking so badly that she couldn't even grab the door handle. A few members of the staff came by. "It's perfectly safe," I promised her as Richard was talking to the director. "You can get out of the car, now."

"I can't," she wheezed. "I can't eat. Kate, please, they'll make me eat! I can't, I can't eat, I have to be perfect or… or…"

"Or what?"

Her mouth tried to form a few words, and I realized that she was telling me something that I didn't understand. "Nobody could ever love me again," she mouthed. She gasped at herself, and clapped a hand over her mouth. An orderly reached past me to her.

"Alexis, it's time to get out of the car. Come on," he said, gently, taking her hand.

She let him lead her out of the car and put an arm around her, speaking to her gently with coaxing words. I watched him guide her into the clinic ahead of us while another orderly pushed the trolley with her bags on it into the building.

We went in with her when she met the director, who laid out the rules of clinic; no drugs, no alcohol, no food in the rooms, no computers, no internet, phones were given back at different times through the day, depending on how much they had improved, no pills of any sort, no bodily harm (including tattoos and piercings during her treatment), and cigarettes were given out certain times of the day for the smoke deck (Richard cracked a joke with her about smoking, but she was too tense to respond). It wasn't too different from the prisons I had been to for work, but she did get to keep her own clothes and sundries. "This is where we take her away," the director told us. "You can leave her messages everyday, once she gets to a certain level with her calories she ingests, we can allow supervised visits. She's going to be just fine. We'll give you a moment to say good-bye."

She left the room and Alexis burst into tears. "Dad, don't leave me here," she begged. "I'll start eating, I promise, just give me a chance! I won't go back to school, I'll go to therapy, just don't leave me!"

My bullshit meter officially broke. She wasn't strong enough at this moment.

"You are perfectly safe here," he promised. He took her into his arms. She sobbed for a few more minutes, she was a complete wreck. "I love you so much. I wouldn't put you in here if it wasn't going to save your life, alright?"

She snorted messily. I felt like I was intruding on their moment.

"Sweetheart," Richard said. "Just think of it like camp when you're by yourself. Make friends, talk to the other girls here… You'll be fine. You always have been… Make me proud."

She nodded and snorted again, lifting her head.

"You're my little girl, remember that."

"I'm not a little girl anymore," she responded finally.

"You'll always be mine, though. Go on. You'll be fine." He kissed her on the forehead and she tucked her head under his chin. "Don't ever forget. I love- _we_ love you. So, so much. So many people want to see you get better."

She nodded gulped in a sob.

"We do love you Alexis," I added in, unsure. A part of me did love her; another part of me wondered how she could do all this to her father and was angry with her. I reached over and touched her tangled red mane, and she flinched away from me. "I can't wait for you to walk down the aisle as one of my bridemaids. You can do this. We believe you can."

The director knocked on the door and poked her head in. "Alexis? We're going to take you to the exam room."

"Exam?" Alexis repeated. "No, I'm not doing this!"

"We've already signed the paperwork," Richard said. "Give it a week. Just like camp."

I rolled my eyes. She'd be out of here approximately one-hundred and sixty-eight hours if he said that. "No, you're going to stick it out and be tough. Your grandma's a tough woman, too. Be like her. Like your dad said, make us proud."

"Never forget that we love you," Richard said, his voice cracking. I looked at him and he was in tears. "We love you," he mouthed. It was enough to make me cry, too.

"You've got a lot to live for," I said, thinking of this baby inside me, growing. I wanted to tell her all about him or her, that she was going to be a big sister after nineteen years of being an only child and this baby needed her to be there. It was terrifying to me to think that I'd have to tell this child one day that he had an older sister who died from self-induced starvation and we hadn't done everything to stop it. I decided to save that for a pep talk for when she was wanting to quit again.

The director led her out of the room.

Richard and I walked out of the office to the front desk. Richard was hardly holding it together as they handed us a folder full of support information, a book list, support groups, therapists, visiting schedules, the rules, what to expect of her schedule and time here. I didn't object when they referred to me as _Mrs. Castle_.

We walked out to car together, I was practically holding him up. He handed me the keys, not saying a word. I got in the driver's seat.

"Please, Kate," he said, tears running down his face. "Please tell me I did the right thing." I reached for him, feeling the now-familiar sting of tears building in my own eyes.

"You did."


	5. Chapter 5

___Disclaimer- I don't own Castle or any of the characters. I've read the _Nikki Heat_ books (and _the Derrick Storm_ novella, but not the comic) and watched the show, but they belong to Andrew Marlowe. Please don't sue me, I'm poor. I just like playing with the characters and I don't make any money from writing this and I didn't beta it. So, if you wanna beta, please feel free to ask me, I'll probably accept the offer. Leave me reviews if you did (I'm one of those douchebag crybaby authors who can't write without somebody patting them on the back for each chapter, I suck)._

* * *

We took a few nights to recover from the horror of Alexis's first day. Richard called her phone five times a day the first few days. I wanted to bring him to work with me because work was my escape. Richard had no escape. He started to look and sound better when I came home on the third night.

"I haven an idea- we'll make a video for her," he said. "And we'll tell her at the end."

"I'm all for that," I said, climbing up onto the kitchen counter to sit. "But… I'm really excited about our baby. I really want to get to a doctor right away."

"After New Year's," he said.

We finally got a hold of Alexis after the first week, right before my referral appointment with my doctor. I had done all the pre-appointment tests the day before. "It's not as bad as I thought," she admitted. "I thought it would be like prison, but they're actually pretty cool here. I just worry about what people will think of me back at Columbia."

"Who cares?" I asked. "Real friends won't."

"Lainey said that mental illness is a liability on medical school applications. I might have professors who don't give me medical school recommendations and…"

"Then make sure you get better," I offered. "Don't let this get in the way of your dreams."

"It could be bad, it could be turned around as a sign of strength," Richard offered. "You're only in your first year of college, you've got a ways to go… You'll be fine when you get out of rehab, you'll get to finish school and college-"

She sighed over the phone. I thought about her last words to directly to me in the car before we took her in that nobody would ever love her again. If that's what she had said. I reminded myself of my promise to read more on this disease at the same time as I read about pregnancy. "Well, they just came through demanding our cell phones. I gotta go," she said. "I love you."

"We love you, too. Take care," Richard said, hanging up the phone. "Come on. I'll drive you."

I was nervous as we walked in. Was I going to be referred to a great doctor or would I get reports that this one was so-so? I literally had never asked about these kinds of things. Would I get a choice?

When we were called into my doctor's office, we sat down across from his desk.

"Alright, Miss Beckett- it's still Miss, right?"

"Yes, it is."

He flipped through my test results on his tablet. "I'm sorry, my nurse didn't write this down properly- are you trying to get pregnant or wanting to change your birth control?"

"No, I took a home pregnancy test a few weeks ago and it said I was pregnant."

He pressed his lips together, looking at the reports and I looked at Richard. A pang of worry struck me. "You're not pregnant," my doctor said.

"I'm not?"

Richard took my hand.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. Sometimes, those tests can be wrong. You're showing elevated levels of cortisol, have you been under a lot of stress, lately?"

I nodded.

"You haven't had anything like a cycle since Thanksgiving?"

"No, I haven't."

"Then it might have been stress. Sometimes stress can cause a fake pregnancy. Other times, it can cause your cycle to stop all together. I'm sorry, Miss Beckett."

I felt such a deep sense of anger and sadness, I wanted to break down, but I couldn't. I had done enough crying in the last month. I couldn't. I wouldn't. I had wanted this so badly, and believed I was having a baby. I glanced over at Richard, who was staring at the desktop in deep thought. "We'd like to plan on having a baby. In the future, after we're married."

"Planning a pregnancy is the smart thing to do. Do you want me to refer you to an OB GYN for after your wedding?"

"Yes, please." I squeezed Richard's hand. "I really want to have a baby as soon as possible."

"I'll be happy to."

"Thank you," I whispered.

* * *

Neither of us had ever been so disappointed over something outside our control or with something so personal ever. I had been planning a whole new life with a baby, gathering information, building baby registries, reading up on the Police Force's policies on maternity leave— I just hadn't expected something to go wrong. I truly believed I was pregnant and that I was going to be a mother soon, that it was already happening and the wheels were turning. It was slightly humiliating to have my body trick me like this. I had truly believed I was having a baby. I was so glad we had kept it a secret.

I wanted to be alone in my misery for a while. Richard didn't let me.

He turned on the iHome dock and moved the coffee table out of the way in the middle of the living room. An up-beat danceable song came on. "Come on," he said, taking my hand. "Dance with me."

I half-heartedly let him lead me. "Who is this?" I asked of the song.

"Eliza Doolittle. I used to dance to this with Alexis when she went through cotillion," he said. I realized he really knew how to dance and I looked like a toe-stepping buffoon. The most I had ever learned was the basic waltz. "Don't lead, okay?" I wasn't sure what he meant. "Let me lead, please." I gave up trying to control the steps and it became easier. He was a good lead, it seemed.

"Where did you learn how to dance?" I asked.

He chuckled. "We've never really danced, have we? Yeah, in eighth grade, I had to take an elective, and I didn't want to play sports, so, I was standing there in the gym looking at the different booths to sign up in, and I saw all these pretty girls going one and practically no other boys. I thought, 'that's the class for me.' It was ballroom dance."

I chuckled, finally, my dark mood lifting.

"And I had all the girls fighting over me because they didn't want to dance with each other," he said. "There were only two other boys in the class, and let's be honest, no closet was going to hold them." I laughed, finally, a loud, happy, unexpected laugh that I hadn't felt all afternoon. "I got teased a lot, but at the spring dance, all the girls wanted to dance with me, and I was surrounded by them while all the other boys were sitting in the bleachers, trying to work up the nerve to ask them to do the eighth-grade slow dance. And all the teachers were smiling at me in approval for once. I got kicked out of school that night, too."

"You did?" I cried.

"Yeah, there was this one girl, and she and I sneaked off under the bleachers and let me put my hand up her shirt. We got caught, but it damn well worth it."

I laughed. "That sounds completely like you," I said. "Ladies' man even at fourteen."

"Fish sandwiches and cavasier, that's me."

"What?" I laughed.

"That's a quote from _the Ladies' Man_. Here," he said, slipped an arm across my waist from the front. "Put your arm up here, over my shoulder." He positioned my arm across his chest so I was grabbing his shoulder. "I'm going to lift you, hold on and trust me, okay?" His arm tightened on me and I was lifted up off the floor in a way that he wasn't in front of me. I found myself squealing and laughing, it felt like I was flying for a second. "Now we're going to tell each other why we love each other," he said, setting me down, spinning me about.

"What? Why?"

"Because there's nothing you and I can't handle together," he said, taking my hands and taking me into what I recognized as a Triple Liddy. "We're going make this work. I'm not getting married again after you, there's no point in it. I'll go first; I love you because you are sexy, smart, stubborn, and maddening and I can't live without you." I felt a sob aching its way up my throat. "Now you."

I stopped moving and took Richard's hands. I looked into his eyes. "I love you because… you're a wonderful father and human being. And I can't wait to make a baby with you."

"Wanna go practice?"

"Yeah, Castle. Always."

* * *

_A/N- If you want the song they were dancing to, it was this one: http: [slash] [slash] [slash] dzY0 [hyphen] I4Gq5w . It's _Pack Up_ by Eliza Doolittle. I love this song so much! I'm probably going to write another companion fic from Kate's POV son. I want to thank whoever left my review. It made me so happy! I love you!_


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